


The Case of the Crying Cat-burglar and The Iron Bull's Missing Unmentionables

by melenafrey



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cats, M/M, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 20:59:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6393562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melenafrey/pseuds/melenafrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian and Bull meet in an unconventional way. Meaning, Dorian's cat steals Bull's underwear and socks until Bull gets so mad he is forced to confront the thief's owner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Case of the Crying Cat-burglar and The Iron Bull's Missing Unmentionables

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, this is ridiculous. I know. However, I thought of the prompt and it wouldn't leave me alone. I've never had less than three cats at any given time in my life (until now, since I'm off at college on the other side of country and can't see my cats on a regular basis...I'm cry) and I enjoyed writing Dorian as an indulgent cat owner. 
> 
> Inspired loosely on this story (http://www.cosmopolitan.com/sex-love/news/a55517/cat-stealing-mens-underwear-for-her-own-weird-reasons/). As always, thank you for reading. :)

Dorian Pavus hated it when people who were meant to be one night stands left their things in his place. _That’s what I get for inviting him here and not just getting a hotel, I suppose,_ he thought glumly to himself as he stared dully at the very large pair of underwear that was lying on his rug. He sighed and stood up slowly, joints creaking as he stretched. As he bent down to pick up the underwear his cat shot out from under the bed and pounced, claws catching in the fabric as she tried to steal it from him.

“Caelia,” he said sternly, taking a moment to gently detach her claws. She meowed mournfully when he lifted the offending article of clothing out of her reach. “These are _not_ playthings.”

She followed him into the kitchen, watching as he threw them into the garbage where they belonged.

She stared at him, eyes deeply judgemental. “What?” He asked testily. “It’s not as though I plan on seeing him again. And that’s a tacky move, anyway, if it was done on purpose. “ He sniffed, ignoring the little voice that said _he_ might try it too if he was really hoping to see someone again.

Come to think of it, he was pretty sure he remembered removing a different pair of underwear from the man last night. He also thought the pair he had just thrown away had been much too large for his one night stand. He frowned, trying to make sense of it.

Caelia interrupted his thoughts by hopping onto the counter and trying to bite his fingers where they were tapping on the tile.

“Oh, alright,” he sighed. “It doesn’t really matter, anyway. I’m probably just remembering incorrectly.”

Caelia kept up a steady stream of meows until he relented, digging her favorite treats out of the cupboard.

 

The Iron Bull preferred to let his clothing dry in the sun, if possible. He had a nice clothing line set up in his backyard and everything. The only problem was, his stuff was so big that he didn’t have room for very much of it hanging at one time. That’s what came with being a qunari, though.

But that was alright; for smaller items he had a different system, but it generally worked just as well. He left his underwear and socks and undershirts to dry on the balcony, laid out flat just so. He’d come around and turn them over after a while to get both sides, make sure none of them had fallen off onto the sidewalk below or fallen into a shadowy patch.

This system had worked for him perfectly until his things started _disappearing._

Initially he figured they had just dropped off the balcony. After getting down on his hands and knees and searching, however, he realized they were just gone. It was disappointing, to be sure, but it was just a pair of underwear and two mismatched socks. They were easily replaced.

He would have been content to let it lie if it hadn’t kept happening.

 

The next weekend Dorian was utterly baffled when another pair of large underwear and several black socks turned up in the bathroom. He didn’t get _that_ drunk anymore. Or at least he hadn’t lately. He would’ve remembered inviting someone over.

He was perturbed by their appearance all morning. He didn’t even throw them away this time, leaving them on the tile where Caelia later found them and delighted herself in dragging them to Dorian’s feet. When he failed to be as impressed as she wanted, she merely retreated with a cranky meow and carried one of the socks under the table, chewing at it with enthusiasm.

 

Bull was more than a little annoyed when he found another pair gone, along with some of his nice black socks for special occasions. They hadn’t been terribly expensive or anything, but it was easier to laugh off when the socks that had run off weren’t even a matching pair.

He stood on the deck, glaring at the balcony where his undershirts still lay, untouched.

He scratched at his horns. “What the fuck.”

 

Dorian was downright angry when he found two pairs of underwear crumpled on the floor in the kitchen. A white sock lay next to them, looking somewhat sad without its pair.

“Who the hell keeps _doing this,_ ” he railed, picking the garments up and throwing them into a pile he’d created just for these articles that kept finding their way into his house somehow.

Caelia eyed them with interest, tail flicking.

 

Bull had just come out to grab the last of the items from the clothing line when he noticed movement up on the deck. He walked up slowly, somewhat curious. He had a few things drying out and maybe he’d finally catch whoever was stealing from him.

He was somewhat disappointed that it was only a small black and white cat. Probably not the culprit.

The cat looked at him for a moment, assessing the danger, before it returned to licking at its front paw demurely. It had a little smeary mustache print, standing out in black against its mostly white face. It was the very picture of innocence, and Bull found himself smiling.

“Hey kitty,” Bull said softly. He liked cats well enough, even though he hadn’t had them growing up. And hey, if the thing taking his unmentionables was a bird or something, maybe the cat had scared them off.

Bull collected his things, pleased that nothing had been taken. He turned around to go back inside only to nearly step on the cat, who had moved directly behind him. He stumbled, grabbing the railing for support.

“Shit, cat,” he breathed. “I about killed you just now.” The cat seemed unconcerned, and began winding itself around his ankles, purring loudly.

Bul huffed with amusement, leaning down to scratch it behind the ears. The purring instantly became twice as loud, and then it rolled over for Bull, presenting him with its soft white belly.

Bull dutifully scratched its ( _her,_ now that he’d gotten a look) stomach. She continued to rumble softly, pleased. Bull checked the little tag on her collar--was that real leather? It looked expensive--to see the name _Caelia_ in a fancy looking font. There was no last name, but a phone number was inscribed underneath.

“Eh, you’re probably not too far from home, are ya?” He asked genially. She meowed loudly when he stopped scratching, and he chuckled. “Gotta get this stuff inside, but thanks for guarding it for me.”

The cat just watched as he stepped inside. Her green eyes seemed disappointed when he shut the door in her face. It’s not like it was his cat or anything--she clearly had a pretty nice home.

Still, he couldn’t help feeling a little bad.

 

Dorian had just gotten off the phone with Sera, who had sworn up and down that she’d had nothing to do with the underwear that kept mysteriously appearing.

“I swear,” she’d pleaded with him. “I mean, it _is_ pretty funny though innit,” she’d cackled.

Dorian would probably agree more if he wasn’t so concerned about how someone was getting undetected into his house, sometimes while he was asleep in bed. Nobody liked to feel unsafe in their own home, after all--he needed to get to the bottom of this.

He looked up from the kitchen table when he noticed movement in his peripheral vision--but it was only Caelia, slinking in through the catdoor. Oh, Maker, and she had something in her mouth.

“Caelia,” he said severely. She stopped, eyes flicking up to meet Dorian’s. Her stare was challenging.

“ _What_ do you have?” He barked at her, only to get up from the table quickly when she fled, tiny legs working quickly to propel her from the room before he could reach her.

He managed to corner her in the living room, where she backed up against a wall and spat out her coveted prize, which was not a bird, as he’d feared. Not an animal at all, actually. It was--

“ _Underwear?”_ He shrieked. She stared at him smugly before bending to lick her paw. “I can’t--I cannot believe--” he stopped himself, taking a deep breath before taking a few steps backward and sinking into the sofa miserably.

Caelia hopped up beside him. She had dragged the boxers with her and laid them helpfully in Dorian’s lap. These were just as large as the others, and white with a tiny printed pink heart pattern.

“I could wring your neck,” he told Caelia firmly. She chirped at him, happy to be the center of attention.

Dorian huffed indignantly as she stepped onto his nether region with all her weight.

He quickly moved her over an inch so she was stepping on his thigh instead.

“You’ve been _very_ bad,” he said with grudging fondness as she butted his hand with her head. “ _Very_ bad,” he repeated. He wanted to be certain she got the message. The way he was scratching at her chin might be conflicting but he couldn’t be bothered to stop.

He sighed again loudly as she made herself comfortable on his lap and began to enthusiastically knead his thigh.

“Where are you even getting these?” He asked despairingly. Caelia just purred.

 

“You know, Chief, you _could_ maybe just stop leaving your fuckin’ underwear outside.”

Bull grunted into his beer. “Hmmph.”

“That means no,” Skinner said dryly.

Krem sighed dramatically. “Then I don’t know what you want to do. They’re gonna keep disappearing if you do nothing about it.”

Bull sighed. “I didn’t say I was going to do _nothing,_ Krem.”

Krem just shrugged, raising his bottle for a swig.

“I wonder who’s been makin’ off with your undies,” Dalish said thoughtfully.

“I don’t care _who_ it is, the real question is _why_ ,” Rocky said forcefully.

“You sure you wanna know?” Stitches asked, eyebrow raised. “Maybe someone just really has a thing for your underwear.”

Krem made a face, and Skinner rolled her eyes.

“Hey, that’d be fine,” Bull protested. “People like what they like--but you know, I keep having to go buy _more._ If I got them back after a fun night, it wouldn’t be a problem, but this is just stealing.”

“Have you got anything drying on the balcony now?” Skinner asked, nonchalant. Bull knew exactly what she was getting at.

“No, you won’t get a chance to fight the thief tonight,” Bull said. “Sorry.”

“Damn,” she muttered.

“Well, be sure to invite us over next time you do laundry,” Krem said dryly.

Bull huffed. “Sure.”

 

Sera would not stop laughing. Dorian held the phone a good foot away from his ear, volume down low, and he could _still_ hear her.

“Sera, it isn’t _that_ funny,” he said through his teeth.

“Yes it fuckin’ _is,”_ she cackled. “Yer cat’s alright, ya know.”

Dorian glared at her across the room, where she laid comfortably in her pile of spoils. She was like a small dragon, lounging amongst her ill-gotten goods. Her eyes had been closed but now her tail swished in annoyance, as though she sensed his eyes on her.

“She’s a menace,” he said decidedly.

“I’m still comin’ over, yeah? Gotta give ‘er a treat for being such a good kitty.”

Dorian’s sharp bark of laughter surprised him. It surprised Caelia too; she hissed and turned her back to him, tail flicking so hard it shoved away one of the socks.

 

Bull was sipping from a cup of his favorite red tea from Par Vollen (don’t ask him how he got it) when he noticed a black and white flash in the corner of his eye. He turned to look out the window, only to see the cat from the other day perched on the balcony. She crouched, skinny neck stretched forward as she bent to grab--his favorite pair of pink boxers. She looked at him right in the eye, as though to show off, before mincing away with the fabric clenched in her mouth.

Bull’s eye narrowed. “Son of a bitch.”

 

Dorian looked up at the sound of the catdoor flapping, already resigned to the fact that she would be bringing in more stolen undergarments.

She walked over to him and sprawled under his chair with her prize, attacking it more viciously than it probably deserved.

Dorian craned his neck to get a look at what she’d stolen this time. “Pink, eh?” He asked, somewhat amused despite himself. Caelia grunted, back feet kicking.

Dorian chuckled, and left her to it. “And what a bright shade of pink, too,” he said gleefully, trying and failing to imagine the very large man who owned these soft, expensive boxers in such a--dare he say _lovely?_ \--shade of pink.

 

Bull was incredibly disappointed to find out that the cat had actually been the perpetrator all along. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so betrayed in his life. He didn’t really have a great alternative for drying his clothes if he wanted to dry them all outside at the same time, though, so he continued to place them on the balcony. He just kept a closer eye on them. He stood, lurking by the window so he could see his things lying out. If he was up to it, he just sat out on a chair next to his laundry and dozed lightly in the sunlight. He figured that plan was pretty fool-proof; if he was right there, after all, that damn cat couldn’t get away with her continued theft.

He quickly realized his error after waking from his unintended snooze with as sudden jerk; the cat was inches away, sock clenched in her mouth. Their eyes met, and Caelia quickly jumped on his lap in a desperate effort to get away. Bull roared in angry surprise, even more angry when her claws dug into his thigh as she springboarded off him, flying off the deck and fleeing into the neighborhood.

“This is war!” He shouted after her as she darted into a bush, hidden from view.

 

Cassandra glanced over at Caelia when she waltzed in with a sock in her mouth.

Dorian barely even paid attention anymore. “Just a sock this time? You’re losing your touch, dear.”

Cassandra gave Dorian a _look._ “She is still doing this?”

Dorian had the grace to look a little shamefaced. “Ye-es.”

Cassandra made a disapproving sound. “You need to do something about that.”

They both watched as Caelia added her new sock onto the pile of items hastily stashed in the corner. She purred as she rolled around in the clothes. “Yes,” Dorian sighed.

Cassandra pursed her lips. “So when will you do something about it?”

Dorian waved a hand. “Soon, soon. I will. Really.”

She scoffed at him.

“So, about Varric’s new book--”

Cassandra narrowed her eyes. “I see what you are doing. Fine, we may change the subject.”

Dorian grinned. “That does not change the fact that you need to act like an adult and make an effort to find this man--”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Dorian said reluctantly. “I will. Honestly. Although if Caelia continues at this rate, eventually he’s just not going to have anything _left_ to steal.”

 

Bull grinned as he heard the front door open. “Krem de la krem!” He crowed joyfully. “You got the goods?”

“I got ‘em, Chief,” Krem yelled back good-naturedly. He walked in and set the beer on the counter, followed by Grim, who set two more packs of beer there.

“Perfect,” Bull said. Everyone else is at the table already, and these pizzas are about ready to come out.”

“Excellent,” Krem said with a wry grin. He grabbed a bottle of beer and headed out to join everyone else. Grim nodded at Bull with a faint smile, and followed Krem out through the doorway.

Bull pulled the pizzas from the oven with care, inhaling deeply as he set them out to cool. The kitchen was soon filled with the smell of his homemade pies, cheese and sauce and meat and vegetables all cooling together on the bread.

He walked over and pulled the window open, allowing for some of the intense heat to escape. It was so nice out; the mild summer weather hadn’t gotten too terribly hot yet, and eating dinner with the windows open was quite pleasant.

After the pizzas had cooled for a bit, he brought out two of them and set them before his boys, who were nearly salivating at the delicious smell.

“Eat up, boys!” He said proudly, watching like a proud parent as they all dug in. He sat, exhaling deeply as he got his weight off his bad knee. He pulled a piece of pepperoni and sausage and slapped it down on his plate.

“That sausage your favorite, huh Chief?” Krem asked him snarkily.

Bull gave him his trademark one-eyed wink. “You know it, Krem.”

They all hummed happily as they scarfed their first and second slices. Bull went back for another pizza and they worked on this one more slowly, chatting and laughing and drinking beer as they unwound from the long week.

Eventually Stitches reminded them that they hadn’t had dessert yet and Bull grumbled good-naturedly, heaving himself up with a sigh. He was excited about the peach pie he’d made earlier. He’d always been decent at cooking, but he’d been trying to bake more lately. He needed more hobbies, Krem had told him pretty bluntly. And baking was something they could all profit from.

Bull walked through the doorway and immediately froze. His pie, his beautiful pie that he’d worked so hard on, was lying facedown on the floor. The peaches and sauce were strewn around it on the tile, leaking sadly from its metal tin. Bull was distraught.

And that _goddamn cat_ was sitting there on his counter, staring down at the pie with a detached kind of curiosity, as if Bull’s very _heart and soul_ were not lying on the floor along with that fucking pie.

“ _YOU,_ ” he roared, furious as he put the pieces together. She must have jumped in through the open window, and decided to fuck with his dessert since he hadn’t left out any boxers for her to steal.

The Chargers were up and running behind him, having heard his shout. They all froze behind him, staring at the pie and the cat. Krem made a wounded sound behind him, as though he’d been shot. Bull understood the feeling.

“Is that the--”

“That’s the cat,” Bull growled. He needed to capture this cat and take it to its owner and demand satisfaction from _someone_. He was done being played by her, cute mustache or no. He had been made a fool of too many times. “Let’s _get her!”_

Everyone leaped forward at once. The cat, somewhat predictably, leaped over them and scurried between their legs. They all bumped into one another in a made dash. She evaded them easily, turning back into the kitchen and leaping from the window.

“Chief, she’s--”

“I don’t care! We’ve gotta catch her so I can finish this!” Bull cried. The Chargers spared a second to give each other dubious looks, but they were a loyal bunch. They all ran from the house with him, barefoot and tipsy, racing after the now terrified cat, who had not expected a serious pursuit.

They were maybe a little louder than necessary, but hey. Bull was angry about the pie, compounded by months of his things getting stolen. Caelia sprinted ahead of them, a black and white streak as she dashed through bushes and across tidy lawns and flowerbeds in an effort to get away.

Skinner got close once and managed to grab the tip of her tail. Caelia screeched with displeasure, but managed to shake her off, putting on another desperate burst of speed. “C’mon!” Bull yelled. “We got her, we got her!”

She seemed determined even though her stride had slowed somewhat, and Bull quickly saw why--she had recognized her house, or _a_ house, anyway. She ran around to the side of a cute little blue house in the middle of the street, and ran inside the little plastic doorway installed just for cats.

The Chargers all stopped, unsure. “Well she’s inside now, Chief, I don’t think--”

“We’re going up there,” Bull said in a tone that brooked no argument.

“But--”

“You all what she did. You saw my pie. There needs to be _retribution._ ” The Chargers didn’t need much convincing after that; they all nodded and followed Bull up to the porch, where he rapped his knuckles on the door firmly.

The front door opened with a creak. Bull opened his mouth, ready to be firm and demand his things back...only to be confronted with an unexpectedly beautiful man. Like, _damn_...this guy was hot. His skin was a deep brown and his hair a dark, styled black, carefully shaved at the sides. His eyes were lined with dark eyeliner and he had a fucking beauty mark by his eye. He had on dark jeans and a white sweater, fairly casual clothing but tight, accenting his perfect body. And _fuck_ if he didn’t have a mustache that matched his damn cat’s.

He smiled, coolly polite as he surveyed them from his open doorway. “Can I help you?”

Bull felt about half the anger drain from him right then and there, but he had come with a mission. _Think of the pie,_ he reminded himself. _And your favorite pink boxers._

“Sorry to interrupt your evening, sir,” he said firmly. “But do you own a cat? With a little mustache? Because if you do, she’s a thief.”

The hot guy just stared at them for a moment. Bull realized only then how ridiculous they must all look--the group of them sweaty and out of breath and smelling like beer, him cn this guy’s porch and the Chargers crammed on his front steps, demanding information about his supposed cat.

“Oh my god,” the guy whispered. “ _You’re_ the underwear guy.” And if Bull wasn’t mistaken, his expression wasn’t so much annoyed as it was awed. He was definitely ogling Bull’s chest and arms, since as usual he had neglected to put on a shirt before leaving the house.

“Uh, yeah,” Bull said, allowing more than a hint of amusement into his tone. “That’d be me, if you mean by that ‘the guy whose underwear and socks have been disappearing for months.’”

It was a little hard to see in the low light, but the guy’s cheeks had definitely gotten darker with a blush. “Oh,” he said, biting his lip. “Oh, I am so sorry. I only just realized what she’d been doing, and then I wasn’t sure how to get in touch with you…”

Bull was a sucker for a pretty face, he knew it about himself. And yet that didn’t stop him from letting the rest of his anger slip away entirely. This didn’t have to be a bad thing. It could actually lead to something pretty spectacular, if they both wanted it to.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m a little more upset about the peach pie she knocked over, to be honest with you. I put my heart and _soul_ into that pie.” He chuckled a little, just to let the guy know he wasn’t _too_ angry.

The guy still looked pretty shamefaced. “She got in to your house? I do apologize, sir, uh--”

“The Iron Bull,” he interrupted gently. “Sorry we had to meet like this, but uh--it’s still nice to meet you.” He smiled genially, and the guy shook his hand with a shy smile.

“It’s Dorian Pavus,” he said softly. “And it’s nice to meet you, as well. I really am sorry about my cat. She’s never done anything like this before.”

“Ah, hey,” Bull said with a smile. “Water under the bridge. Just give me my underwear back and we’ll call it even.”

Dorian chuckled. “Fair enough. But, I’m afraid--well.” He coughed delicately. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight, and I’ve been meaning to wash them for you before I returned them--at the moment they’re somewhat covered in, ah, cat hair.” He grimaced.

“Ah,” Bull said, nodding.

Dorian bit his lip again, eyes fixed on Bull’s craggy face. “Well--how about this. I give you my number, or you give me yours...and I can bring them by once I’ve washed them for you?” He smiled, dark eyelashes fluttering. “I would just feel too rude returning dirty clothing to you.”

Bull laughed, smile wide and appreciative. This guy could be a right little coquette when he wanted, clearly. “I think that sounds great, Dorian,” he said warmly.

Dorian smiled warmly back, gaze clearly dragging back down to his biceps. Bull was a little tempted to flex right then and for his enjoyment, but he refrained. There would be time for that later, if he wasn’t mistaken.

After they’d written each others’ numbers down in their phones, Dorian smiled at him once more. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Iron Bull.”

“ _The_ Iron Bull,” he said cheerfully. “The article’s important to me.”

“I see,” Dorian said with no small amount of amusment. “Well, then. I’m sure I’ll see you quite soon.”

Bull grinned back at him, nodding goodbye. The front door shut and he turned away, to face his boys. They were all giving him the exact same look, eyebrows rasied and arms crossed as if they’d planned it.

“Whaaat?” Bull asked rhetorically. “Can’t blame a guy for trying, eh?”

“No, but we can blame you for succeeding,” Krem said with ire. “I literally cannot believe you.”

“Hey, he was pretty, wasn’t he? Back me up, here guys, you know he was a sight for sore eyes.”

Grim grunted, which was a yes in Bull’s book.

“He was,” Skinner sighed.

“He definitely was,” Stitches said, and Dalish giggled.

Rocky and Krem gave each other that look, but Bull was content.

“What about the pie?” Krem whined.

“That’s alright,” Bull said easily. “In fact, I’m in the mood for something else, I think. We can stop by that little market and grab some ice cream or something, huh?”

“Alright,” Krem sighed. “Just don’t catch feelings with this one, huh?”

“Sure, Krem,” Bull said quickly. “Sure I won’t.”

 

Dorian smiled as he shut the front door, feeling giddy at the unexpected way things had gone down. He pulled out his phone, unable to keep the good news to himself.

 

_Dorian: So the underwear guy finally confronted me 8:03_

_Sera: Yah??? And?? 8:06_

_Dorian: Maker, Sera, he is HUGE 8:07_

_Sera: you got his number, right? 8:10_

_Dorian: oh yes 8:10_

_Sera: fuck yeah!! 8:11_

_Sera: not that I wanna hear about what you lot are gonna do with your bits, but good on ya 8:12_

_Dorian: B) 8:12_

 

He tucked away his phone when Caelia chirped at him. He smiled, laughing a little with joy. “Oh, Caelia, my darling,” he said happily. He leaned down to pick her up, not even caring that she’d shed black hairs all over his white sweater.

She purred as he cradled her in his arms, nuzzling at her soft ears. He smiled widely as he imagined showing up to Bull’s house later this week with all his undergarments, freshly laundered and sans cat hair. If it hadn’t been for Caelia, this marvelous... _opportunity_ wouldn’t have ended up, quite literally, on his doorstep.

“Good girl,” he whispered into her fur. Caelia, as per usual, just purred.

  



End file.
